another night on the mountain
by not a straight trumpet
Summary: Kumiko and Reina spend an anniversary of sorts on the exact place one would expect them to. It's more difficult than expected to reach the summit, however, and sometimes it's hard to understand people when you have trouble understanding yourself. or; the one-year-anniversary fic of episode 8 that doesn't deviate much from the norm.


**a/n:** when will s2 happen, i'm running out of ideas and kumirei can only go up this same mountain so many times before it gets old

in other news, this is actually the anniversary of when i started watching the show and not the given date for the festival

* * *

A year.

Milestones happened quite often in Kumiko's life - they were markers, ways to keep track of time. They weren't even usually things someone would usually consider important. There were no school anniversaries, no graduations. Instead, Kumiko measured time through screams in a music room with a dented euphonium and untimely meetings. It was a bit sad, she idly thought, to live in the past, but she had to sometimes. She had to, when it was better than the present.

This, right now, did not seem to be one of those such cases. Reina walked in front of her with such purpose in her step, a sense of determination that Kumiko had always admired. She was no longer the ethereal snow spirit that had travelled up this path with a confused Kumiko in tow anymore, however - Kumiko knew her better, now, and she was more human than anyone else Kumiko had ever met. She would have liked to say that she knew Reina as well as the back of her hand, but the truth was that she didn't. The two of them had grown closer over the year, sharing secrets and practicing together and gently holding each other in hidden parts of the school when nobody else was watching, but parts of Reina still remained an enigma.

Parts of her, Kumiko thought, such as the reasoning behind going up the mountain on a festival night for the _second_ time (even if the thought thrilled her to no end).

"W-what is it that you have to show me this time?" she panted, adjusting the heavy euphonium on her back. "Another c-confession of love?" It was a jest, but the words still danced on her tongue. _A confession of love. She cares about me. We're . . . we're in love._ Kumiko feared the worst at any given moment - she had to, that was what she told herself, so that nothing like middle school would ever happen again - and it was moments like this that made her wonder if it was all just a long dream, if she was going to wake up any moment with a pillow in her face and reality glaring at her in the form of her mother demanding her presence at school.

It would be easy, so, _so_ easy, for this all to slip away, and nothing scared her more.

"Kumiko?" Reina turned around, her long dark hair softly glowing in the moonlight.

"Y-yeah?"

"Are you all right? You seemed lost in thought for a moment, is something wrong? Should we stop?" Kumiko waved her hand as if to clear the air of any tension.

"I'm fine, don't, uh, don't worry about me. It's just this weather, y'know? It gets really, er, humid around this time of year." Reina looked up for a moment before responding.

"The air's actually quite crisp tonight. You've mentioned before that you like this kind of cold weather, so-"

"Don't worry about it, Reina, r-really. I'm completely fine, see?" Kumiko hefted the euphonium case over her head to prove her point, only for its weight to pull her down to the gravelly earth.

"Kumiko!"

"D-dammit . . ." Kumiko hissed at the pain. Reina set aside her trumpet case to crouch down.

"Did you scrape your knee?"

"No. I'm fine. I'm okay, promise." Kumiko managed a weak smile and a thumbs-up before clambering to her feet.

"If you insist."

* * *

The walk became awkwardly silent after that, and Kumiko desperately tried to think of a conversation topic - _anything_ to ease the heaviness of the air.

"I s-still can't believe that it's been so long since we last went here, huh?" Reina didn't turn around, still walking forward with a curt nod.

"It _does_ feel like it was just yesterday, doesn't it?" Kumiko nodded eagerly.

"Yeah! It's, uh, it's just hard to think about how much time's passed, y'know? There's something kinda final about one-year anniversaries. It's sorta locking it away as a 'recent' experience, b-because it's _not_ a recent experience anymore, it's an old one, and that's just really weird to think about." Reina stopped abruptly, and Kumiko wondered if she had done something wrong.

"Do you feel nostalgic about things often, Kumiko?" she murmured.

"Y-yeah, sometimes."

"You're one to live in the past, then?" Kumiko's heart was thumping in her chest, an animal locked in a cage begging to be let out.

"It depends," she barely squeaked out, voice wavering. "W-what about you, Reina? Isn't there something that you miss?"

"No," Reina replied. "I try to only focus on what lies ahead. If I made a mistake-" Kumiko could feel her heart rattling, now, "-then I figure out what I did wrong, and I try to fix it, and then I don't worry about it."

"B-but what if you're just scared of messing up again? What if it . . . what if it pretty much consumes you?" Kumiko rapidly blinked back tears, trying to focus on staring at the gravel at her feet, dyed blue by the light of the night sky. Reina tilted her head.

"Is that what you're afraid of, Kumiko?" Hardly a second passed before Kumiko found herself buried in Reina's arms, breathing in uneven gasps.

"Y-you . . . you promised not to abandon me, right?"

"You promised that first, Kumiko. I'd like to think that you're planning on upholding that side of the bargain." Kumiko choked out a strained laugh before falling into sniffles again.

"I'm n-never leaving you, Reina," she murmured. "J-just please . . . p-please don't leave me either."

"I won't."

* * *

In the end, the two girls decided that it would be too exhausting in their current emotional state to go all the way to the top of the mountain as they had so long ago (though really, Kumiko thought, it wasn't that long ago at all) and instead walked down holding hands and talking about anything that crossed their minds, and for the first time in what felt like eons, Kumiko felt the fear begin to ebb away.


End file.
